Chronicle
by EXNativo
Summary: He may have joined a cult. He may have been friends with psychopaths. He may have even uncovered the deepest, darkest secrets of the continent's top Guild. Whatever the case, Gray Fullbuster can be trusted to write all of his experiences down, in the interest of his own personal mental health, right? ...Right?


**ENTRY #1**

This is a horrible idea.

I should have told Master Makarov how bad of an idea it was before he shipped me off to counselling sessions. "Danger to myself and others," am I? "Getting too old to deal with my shit," is he?

Oh, wait, I did tell Master how bad this idea was. It was at that point that everything went dark and then I woke up chained to a couch.

Trust issues, Doctor Su had scribbled down before I even woke up. I know because I stole and burned her notebook. Don't tell anybody that, though, Natsu will never let me live it down if he finds out that I used fire for anything. I've had to microwave any meals that need cooking since I was ten years old, because he's a flaming bastard and I hate him because of it.

And now this book.

Sticking Magic, I was told it was, it would stick to me whenever it senses that I was feeling overtly homicidal and then would refuse to let go until I wrote down whatever I was thinking. And if I refused to write anything, it would start yodelling any past entries.

Seeing as I didn't have any past entries, Master just assigned Laxus to zap me until I started writing. He's standing just outside my door now. I can hear him laughing.

Trust issues. I hope Su is being paid in coal and ugly ice statues.

*sigh* Whatever. Look, I've never kept a diary before, and don't get me wrong, this is definitely a diary. I had a journal, once, way back when I was younger, but that was only used to keep a record of my training when I was starting out. I don't know where it went, but I'm fine with it being lost. I don't need any more reminders of the past.

My name, that's a good place to start. Or restart. Should I restart? No, I can't be bothered. My name is Gray Fullbuster. Your name, from this point forth, is Notepad. I'm a mage at Fairy Tail, though I am seriously considering hanging up my magic and going on some journey of self-discovery or some such crap.

Maybe then I would be allowed to do what I please. No more having to frown because my smiles scare children. No more having to keep my laughter to myself because it apparently 'makes me sound insane'. No more being tied to a chair while some middle-aged lady with a moustache tells me how I feel and tries to shove pills down my throat. No thank you.

I think they planned for that, though, as unfortunate as that is. The last time I tried to run away, Erza caught me in the train station and dragged me back to the Guild. The time before that, Mirajane had been standing outside my apartment door in tears and I felt too bad to go through with it. I don't remember any of the attempts before that, so I can only assume they ended in failure.

Maybe I accidentally joined a cult? Ur did warn me about cults. She said that emotional manipulation was right up their alleys. Oh damn, what would Lyon say if he knew that I'd joined a cult? Can you imagine the look on his face if he ever finds out, Notepad?

What do you mean you don't know who Lyon is?

* * *

 **ENTRY #2**

Natsu brought a new girl into the Guild today. She said her name was Lucy, and she kept looking at Natsu like she was going to throw up. Cana came up to me later and told me that I'd lost The Bet.

The Bet is different from any other bet that has been made, you can tell because of the big T and B. The Bet, as opposed to The Wager, was over Natsu's sexuality. I had piranhas with fairly shit odds, mainly because I believed in my heart that if I wanted it enough, it would come to pass (take that, Lyon, I CAN believe!). Unfortunately, I was wrong, and Macao walked away with his safe bet of blondes with enough money to finally take some brew home and spend time with his kid.

Poor kid. What was its name again?

Ah, not important, I don't care. All I do know is that as soon as I walked through my apartment doors, you latched onto my face. I'm talking to you, Notepad. I hate you with all my being. You and your stupid high voice screaming for all the world to hear about cults. Stupid bastard.

Not much happened today. I lost all my clothes at some point, but then I found some more that I'd probably worn at some point, so I didn't have to go home naked. People keep trying to tell me that I need to keep some spare pants on me at all times, but I really can't be bothered. Besides, I would only lose them again.

Hmm. My Natsu senses are ringing. They're an unfortunate addition, my Natsu senses. They're set to go off whenever Natsu stumbles ass first into some stupid shit and I need to be recruited to bail him out. Needless to say, I usually ignore the Natsu sense, because it's constantly going off, but this time I think I should check it out.

Hang on, Notepad. I'll be back in a minute.

 ** _Apparently_** Natsu has gone to a freezing mountain, because Macao is trapped there and he has been for a while. So, who was it that won The Be- oh, that was Wakaba. I get those two confused sometimes, whoops.

Anyway.

I hope Natsu dies.

* * *

 **ENTRY #3**

You know, being dragged off to fight a Demon really doesn't help the whole 'cult' theory.

Erza got back to the Guild sometime after Natsu (unfortunately) returned. She was carrying some sort of horn. I literally have no idea why, it kind of just went away after the fact. She then decided that I would be at the train station the next day, and for a second I thought that she would actually allow me to run away and never look back.

Nope. I got to fight a fucking Demon.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaayyy.

If only you could hear the anger and irritation in my voice. The Demon went down like a bitch, nobody was hurt all that bad, and now my damn Natsu senses are going off again. We just got back, how the ever loving fuck did he manage to get himself into trouble again!?

And people tell me that I'm the one on suicide watch, I'm the one they're worried about. At least I've got some common sense about me, know what I have and how I should spend it. Noooo, I'm the one who is looking to get himself killed, and now I need to write in a stupid fucking yodelling book.

I'm going to go check on him. Screw you, Notepad.

* * *

 **ENTRY #4**

…Alright, so there's a very small chance that I MIGHT have tried to use Iced Shell.


End file.
